Kiss It Better
by Milk and Glass
Summary: Addison/Charlotte. Takes place during 2x03, so don't read if you haven't seen it. Charlotte discusses a job change with Addison and Addison learns a little more about Charlotte's motives and emotions. One-shot.


"Montgomery, what are you doing taking up one of my beds

"Montgomery, what are you doing taking up one of my beds?"

You're busy examining your knee from today's treadmill accident when you hear her flat, nasal, grating voice. "Charlotte King."

"That's right. And if you've got a little boo-boo, maybe the best thing to do is to go back to Oceanside and have them kiss it better?"

You push your hair out of your eyes. "Right. If you're done being snotty, I'm actually just waiting for someone to bring me some supplies to bandage it up. Then, I promise, I'll get out of your hair." You shoot her a mocking smile and aren't surprised to see it returned.

"Dell?"

"You know, the boy who used to greet you at reception?"

You suddenly laugh at her blank look. "Blonde, built, surfer boy?"

A dawning of recognition comes over her face. "Right, right. Yeah, no, I didn't realize he worked here. What happened, Montgomery? Couldn't keep him in Oceanside bliss?"

You simply sigh, and she shoots you a quizzical look. "Drama?"

"Sort of. Well, not really. Anyway, I'm not discussing it. Can you please grab me some gauze so I can do this myself?"

In response, she walks out of the room and you sigh a little in relief, sick of all the questioning and intensity that is Charlotte King. She's a petite bundle of prickly energy – and she doesn't understand that there literally is a time and a place for that.

When she returns, she's holding gauze and tape, but snatches it out of your reach when you make a grab for it. "Will you sit still for five minutes?"

With surprising care, she bandages your knee. Her fingers are surprisingly gentle and her movements measured. Despite yourself, you smile as her sensitive hands ensure that the bandage is secure.

"So you do have a bedside manner."

"Minimally. It's why I prefer administration." She gives your knee a last pat and then a smile, free of mocking. "How does that feel?"

You get up and put weight on the knee, feeling the pain almost immediately. However, the bandage holds, supporting your sore joint, and you nod. "It's good."

She immediately closes her face. "So, I've got a case that I need you on. Care to join me in the OR?"

"What? Charlotte, I've got to get back to the office."

She looks disappointed. "Montgomery, I'm asking you. You know, co-op medicine."

"Which is hardly what you're into." You sling your purse onto your shoulder. "I've got to get back."

"Well, if you change your mind, the OR's open."

Turning on your heel, you walk out, leaving her standing in the bay with her gauze in her hand, and after almost reaching the elevator, you turn back.

"Okay, I'll do it."

She's standing there still, staring at the floor, and looks up, her reverie broken. "You will?"

"Yes."

An hour later, you're bent over a pregnant woman with an ovarian torsion and the rush is amazing. You push a strand of hair out of your eyes as you exit the OR, ready to scrub out. You're only vaguely surprised to see her standing against the door jamb, her mocking smile playing around her lips.

"Well? Did you enjoy it?" She's totally aware that she's just given you a little treat, and you smile, despite yourself.

"Yes, I enjoyed it. Thanks."

"You know, Addison," she begins, and you find suddenly that you really don't mind the sound of your name in her mouth – "I could use you here. In the hospital. Face it, you love this stuff. This is who you are."

"Oh, Charlotte. I couldn't. I have a job."

She comes up beside you and you catch a very light, floral scent as she leans over and brushes the strand of hair out of your eyes. "But you like this. You miss this."

You're a little surprised at the touch, but you step back from her. "Yes, but I love what I do."

She simply shrugs, trying not to show the rejection. "Fine. Offer's there." Her voice is back to being snappy and sharp, and with that, she walks out of the room.

Later, you're relaxing in one of the on-call rooms (despite the fact that it's not your hospital, you've got at least three more surgeries that you've agreed to do today, and you're tired) when she comes in.

She's wearing ill-fitting scrubs – they're too big for her. The points of her clearly-defined collarbone catch the light as she pulls her blonde hair, long and shining, back into a ponytail.

"So, here's the thing," she begins, her voice still harsh. "I need you here. Because you're doing me a big favour when you take surgeries like this. And, I like you."

"Well, I like you too, Charlotte," you reply, realizing that it's true. "But I have an obligation. I can't just walk away from Naomi and Sam."

"Because they're your family?" The word drips with sarcasm as she says it, but her face doesn't change from its perplexed, softer look.

"Yeah, but I need to be able to interact with patients. The crazy surgery days are over. I need to be able to just be . . . me."

Her face is heartbreakingly sad. "Isn't this you?"

"Yes. It's a part of me. But me delivering babies using different methods – me being able to talk to people, to patients, figure out their problems using time and not knives . . . that's a bigger part of me. That's who I'm glad to be, now."

You clear your throat. "And if you can't respect that about me, Charlotte, we . . . can't be friends, I guess."

You're surprised to see a tear on her cheek. "Are you okay?"

"I don't know." She wipes it roughly away. "I like you, Addison."

"We went over this . . ."

"No, I LIKE you." Characteristically, she's harsh and to the point, and the kiss that meets your lips is firm, matter-of-fact, announcing. Charlotte LIKES you.

"Oh," you whisper, and open your eyes to meet hers. Her eyes are a startling shade of green, infused with tears. It's weird, but it's sort of natural. It's nice to see she's human.

She leans forward to kiss you again, and this time you meet her lips. She's soft, and not as prickly as she seems. Her hair is silken against your cheek as the end of her ponytail comes forward over her shoulder. Her lips part slightly – she tangles her hands in your hair, and you bring up a hand to gently cup her cheek.

When you break apart, she doesn't move away, and you hold her for a minute. "Better?"

"Yeah. I mean, I wanted you here, but this works." Her voice is back to the drawling Southern grate and you smile.

"Well, whenever you need me, you can call me. I'll do your surgeries anytime."

She sits on the edge of the bed for a moment, her gaze fixed upon your feet, and with a flash, she leans down and drops a kiss on your gauze bandage.

"You don't need to go back to Oceanside to kiss it better."


End file.
